Forging a Legend and an Empire
by NoldorinLord
Summary: The story of a Parthian King, who embarks upon a journey to alter the course of history. Rated K for violence and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

I hope everyone enjoys this, its my first RTW story. Please R&R!

**Forging a Legend and an Empire**

**_Chapter I - A Challenge by the King of Kings_**

He was called Wolfshead, not because he had once slain a wolf with his bare hands, and then worn it upon his head as trophy (which might have been true of his cousin), or because of the outline of his head that might have resembled a wolf of the northern steppes. No. He was called Wolfshead by his people because of the brutality of his acts, his lack of mercy towards his prisoners and the ravages his army acted on in his many campaigns.

He was Mithridates VI. No, not the Pontic king who defied Roman generals and massacred Roman citizens in Asia Minor. This man was the ruler in the vast realm of the Kingdom of the Parthians, his rule extending from the eastern boundary that is the Indus and the western boundary that is the Euphrates. He was not the Pontic legend, but saw himself in another light. He would be the new master of Asia, bringing together all the provinces of the east under his divine and enlightened rule. At least, that was what the Zoroastrian priest told him when he inquired on the prophecies of his rule.

"A fruitful one, your Majesty. One regaled in legend."

The fool said that to all the Parthian kings. It was more lip service than truth. His grand-uncle received one, and for his pains had his hair pulled by ropes tied to wild horses while they dragged his body to the ground. Then there was his grandfather, who was slain by daggers by his own daughters. A cousin killed by a Roman agent. A brother lynched by an angry mob… the list was endless.

Mithridates VI Wolfshead did not like to dwell on family history. His life was one more symbol of the trying times of his kingdom. A Roman General, by the name of Marcus Fonteius, who was not really distinguished in his native Rome, or even related to the ruling families of the City, had been governing the province of Cilicia. At that time, Mithridates' father, King Vologases III, invaded Asia Minor. Fonteius, realizing that the other Roman garrisons had fallen hard and fast against the onslaught of the Parthian cavalry, decided to forego the governor of Asia Minor, and inflicted a sound thrashing of Vologases. Stung, but not defeated, the Parthian king bribed the Galatian king, Deiotarus I, to war with the Roman general. He, himself, lay siege to a greater part of Asia Minor, and was at the point of expelling the Roman armies there.

Then things became confusing, as it tended to be with that ridiculous Roman tribe. The command of the Roman armies was given to two men, Marcus Fonteius and Sextus Flavius Gallicus. Since the latter was still busy overthrowing a Gallic invasion in Arretium, Fonteius was left to deal with both the Galatian traitors and the Parthian invaders. Conscripting in all cities throughout Asia Minor, Fonteius soundly defeated Deiotarus in an engagement nigh to the Galatian capital of Sinope, and then defeated Vologases in three separate engagements in the Anatolian Mountains. Forced back, the Parthian king thought this was a more serene yet deflating journey home. He was wrong. Taking the route to Armenia, he learned that the Roman Senate finally gave Fonteius the command of the armies in Asia Minor, and even ordered the Syrian governor to hand two legions to the Cilician governor. This was disheartening news, but even more so when the unpredictable Fonteius had appeared with his army at the king's rear.

"Clearly, this Roman does not know the ways of the desert," observed Vologases, and ordered his army to form up. His cavalry threw a hail of missiles at the advancing Roman infantry, which started to break. Percieving that Fonteius was done, he ordered his cataphracts to charge the small gaps in the Roman line. Thinking that this was it, Vologases ordered the rest of his army to destroy the small Roman group.

He rued that day and the days that followed as long as he lived, for the King of Kings, thinking that he had outwitted the Roman, saw from the distance the shape of what appeared to be Roman standards, running-- no, charging-- at their position. They were cavalry, and they had come from the Syrian governor. Along with two more legions, that no sooner had the cavalry emerged from the sands that they began to march on the same horizon, beating their swords at their shields. Vologases ordered the trumpet to sound, and reorganize, but the stalwart troops of Marcus Fonteius, overthrowing the mercenary armies, now pounced on the withdrawing royal cataphracts of the king. "Get back! Get them back, you sand-crawlers!" Vologases rallied, but the men were too busy trying to push back the counter attack made by Fonteius on his army.

Finally, the day lost, and the King's safety the only priority, Vologases ordered his train to retreat, with what was left of his royal guard. They left behind a trail of gold and women that took too much time in dragging, and arrived at his elder son's capital, Artaxata.

Then, the Armenian king and ungrateful son declared for the Romans, barring his father at the gates and ordering his soldiers to arrest him. He was taken to Marcus Fonteius, who asked among the humiliating conditions of this Parthian defeat, that his son, Mithridates, be taken hostage as a token of Parthian goodwill. "I shall see to my son, then," Vologases had replied, but that was not all. The Roman general, his noble excellency Marcus Fonteius wanted the Parthian king to walk in his triumph.

Apparently, it was a symbol of great might and fame to have the King of Kings bound and humbled, to appear before the lesser Roman people! Marcus Fonteius became senior consul at that time, and Vologases died at the pits of Tullianum, where he was strangled by a hired slave.

Mithridates, meanwhile, was put on a baggage train with his nurses and the last King's high priest by his uncle, and sent to the Roman general. Fonteius wanted to rear him up as a Roman nobleman, another of the Roman illusions of "culturing" the cultured nations of the east. Along the way, in Athens, the son was suddenly attacked by Greek assassins, and after much interrogation Fonteius learned that the uncle had hired assassins as far as Rome itself to kill this child, this would-be heir of the Kingdom of the Parthians.

With much reluctance, he was given to a Greek family, to be reared in secret until the opportunity would pass for Fonteius again. The Roman general left the city, and proceeded to Brundisium, and hence to Rome where he was greeted with a well-deserved triumph.

For Mithridates, it was both a painful and learning experience. His Greek foster father wanted to inculcate to him the values of philosophy, of the teachings of Socrates and Aristotle and Plato. Mithridates was more inclined, even at the age of five, to watch the Thracian gladiators, whose building was near where their home was. Mithridates kept sneaking out to the gladiatoral school, and the master there, a Lucius Cummeius, wanted nothing more than to entertain the young rascal.

Stipho, the Greek father, confronted Lucius Cummeius of encouraging the boy at an early age to violence. "This boy is the would-be King of Parthia! I will not teach him the values of the sword, like his countrymen; but the learned virtue of philosophy, and wit."

Which was, Mithridates thought now, a good thing as his "father" taught him the value of good administration, debate, and forum. This did not stop him from continuing to see the gladiatoral fights, and Stipho at length permitted the prince to take part in the training there. Lucius Cummeius (who was also a past Roman legionnary) taught him the different ways of combat-- unarmed, with sword, and horsed. Other gladiators who delighted at the boy's enthusiasm at the brutal sport, taught him lessons in strategy, as some of them were once Numidian cavalrymen, or a Gallic warrior-prince.

So by the age of twenty, Mithridates VI had grown into two contrasting backgrounds: the sweat and blood filled world of the Gladiators, and the perfumed one of the philosophies of Athens. He had, after defying his foster father, enrolled in the gladiator school, and was at the point of participating in a match when he was pulled back by an aged Marcus Fonteius--- Gaius Julius Fonteianus, as his adopted name now was.

The Roman Senate had been approached at that time by a Parthian delegation. The uncle of Mithridates had become insufferable and oppressive. They turned to Rome to find them a new king, to whom the nobles promised to rally to. Gaius Fonteianus lost no time in convincing Rome that this was a plea that should not be shunned, and a war whose only general could be him. Led by the able Lucius Antonius, the Senate put forth a division within the House, and though the decision was heavily contested, those who elected Fonteianus to the war won. So, he immediately sailed to Asia Minor to take four legions from the governor, a thousand and half horsemen from the Galatian king (Deiotarus was apparently still king, but only by the whim of Rome), and four legions to be dispatched by the Syrian governor.

Like Vologases, Orodes, the uncle of Mithridates, met the Roman army at the Anatolian Mountains. The aging Roman, though still cunning and skilled, had become less of a man than he was before, and he was forced back by the Parthian army. At the Ionian region, however, Deiotarus came with his Galatian cavalry, and attacked the left flank of the Parthian Army. While Orodes was distracted, Gaius Fonteianus took an extra legion from the governor of Asia Minor, hiding it from the prying eyes of the Parthians. As the Parthians routed the Galatian cavalry, they advanced towards the Roman garrison near Ancyra. The Romans went into field and at the first few hours seemed disheartened, positioning themselves with their shields concealing the extra Roman men. When Orodes, seeing the Roman positions start to waver, ordered his cataphracts and the rest of his army at the Roman position (in much the same way as his brother), the shields suddenly parted. The extra soldiers, with spears ready, lanced at the cataphracts, aiming for the horse's eyes. With a yell, the Romans charged at Orodes' army with all their might, conveniently stemming the tide of battle in their favor. Orodes was not in sight; he had left early and not to Armenia, but across the Euphrates, into the longer route towards Ctesiphon.

There, the Parthian nobles, seeing their chance, revolted in favor of the Roman hostage and rightful king, Mithridates. Orodes arrived home in the middle of a kingdom-wide rebellion, with the walls of Ctesiphon acting in the same way as Artaxata's did. There was no time. With what was left of his army he tried to besiege his own capital, but it was no use, no use. Meanwhile, he had learned that Gaius Fonteianus was at the point of crossing the Euphrates River. Ordering his Scythian mercenary general to get a sword, he laid the hilt between two rocks, and dashed himself to it. The rest of his soldiers deserted him, and the nobles laid their hands on the king, and tore him (literally) limb from limb. Then they threw his pitiful remains into the nearby Tigris, with many curses, and then went back to Ctesiphon to welcome the new king, Mithridates.

And what was the new king's first act upon ascending to power? All the nobles who had revolted under his uncle's reign were put to death. Every single one. A painful death, he told his generals, "to ensure that such a state of self-destruction can no longer come to pass." Of course, in a short span of six months, he was, like his uncle, hated by the rest of his kingdom, and a deputation sent to Rome, but by then the Senate had become impassive to their appeals, too involved in the Germanic-Gallic Wars in the West. Mithridates, gathering strength, put to death the families of old nobility, razing towns and cities, wherever they hid. "I no longer want a legacy of rebellion in my kingdom!" He had screamed at the prisoners. "From now on, I will trust only my generals!" With that, he appointed the vacated governorships in the satrapies (provinces) to his commanders.

It has been ten years, since that first time he received a "trial by fire" in the Parthian throne. He had amassed hundreds of wives and concubines, but his favorite was always Thesea, the daughter of the Athenian governor when he still lived in the city. By his orders she had been kidnapped and taken to his summer palace in Ecbatana, the father pensioned off with a handsome chest of treasures. He had three sons to her: Vologases IV, Mithridates VII, and poor, pathetic Phraates III.

"He cannot even ride a horse!" He once complained to Thesea. "What Parthian son cannot ride a horse!"

He had learned the culture of his father faster than he had imagined he would. He hunted with the nobles, not to appease them, but because he had loved the sport. Mithridates even inspired court combat, in the gladiator style he had first seen in Athens. But the teachings of Stipho he tried to apply to his subjects. He hired the services of Greek philosophers, and tried to pass decrees ordering the people to learn Greek as well as their native language. That way, he reasoned, the local and ethnic differences among his subjects are bridged. The plan failed miserably, and Mithridates at one point cursed his heritage and his Athenian upbringing.

So here he sat finally, Mithridates VI Wolfshead, toying with a large, towering tiara sitting on top of his head, and wondering how hard the crown would shatter if he had tipped it over.

"A fine gift, your Majesty, not to be taken lightly."

He glanced to his left, and saw his chief advisor and mentor, Eumachus. During his first few years as Parthian king, Eumachus had taught him all there was to learn about ruling. That this man was Greek did not bother him at all; and he made sure that this was a fact ignored by the Parthian nobility. A lot was owed to this man. Of course, if he ever was part of a plot against the King, he would no sooner cut his throat himself.

"Well I tire with these ceaseless gifts from my brother. You would think that he would get the point that I really cannot appreciate all these jewels."

"He does not understand your Greek upbringing, Sire."

"Which as well should be. I cannot forget his treachery to my father."

"A fact he has long regretted." Armenia's southeastern border was carved by Mithridates to give to one of his generals. His brother did not utter a bleat. "But Great and Wise King, Artavasdes comes with great tidings."

"Great and Wise King" was always Eumachus' way of introducing to the king a project he had hatched on his own and wanted Mithridates to adapt. Having a soft spot for flattery, but not for jewels, the Parthian king found it hard to refuse. "Send him in, then."

Artavasdes was the current chieftain of the Nabatean Arabs. Untidy, sporting a beard that reminded Mithridates of the style sported by the Greeks years back, he was a constant annoying presence in the Parthian court. The only significant (and surprisingly, most important) contribution he offered to the king was news of the West, and particularly of the Roman politics. He came in, three earrings to his left ear, a grin to his face with nothing more than his white robes to present himself to the king. It was always disgraceful.

The Arab kneeled, and bowed his head. "Your Majesty, a thousand blessings on your family and all your sons."

Mithridates shook his head. The Arab never learned. "Speak up, Arab! What news do you have of the West."

Artavasdes looked up, a twinkle in his eye. "Gaius Julius Fonteianus is dead."

That got the king's attention. Artavasdes watched as Mithridates turned to Eumachus, whose head was bowed, then to him. He leaped up. "When did this happen? How did this happen? Details, man!"

The Arab smiled, knowing the weakness of his king. "It was a ruptured artery in the back of the head, Great King. He was dining with his friends at his villa near Rome, when suddenly he collapsed, dead. They say it was an omen of disaster for Rome, as he had died with a terrified look on his face, and a flash of lightning from the skies."

Mithridates did not know whether to sit or continue standing. It was tremendous news. "And what of the provinces of Asia Minor and Syria?"

"Well, for some time, Gaius Fonteianus has kept his man, Quintus Cassius, as governor of Syria. Great King, I would beg to say that you knew him?"

Who would not know the man who decimated the Parthian armies near the Armenian border? "Go on."

Artavasdes licked his lips. "Rome apparently hated Gaius Fonteianus, and the Julian faction. In fact, they have outlawed two more Julian senators, Sextus Julius and Gaius Antonius Fimbria."

The Parthian king took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. The Arab always tried to give him an interest into Roman politics, but he just could not get it; he just did not care.

"The Roman Senate is doing away with the power of the Julian family, particularly its most powerful adherent, Marcus Marcellus Orator."

"A shake-up in the Senate! Is that what you mean?"

"Well, yes, Great King, but much more." Artavasdes related how the Senate, finding a way in their laws to find Marcus Marcellus unlawfully exercising his consular office when his junior colleague should have been the one doing it, as he held the fasces that month. "Irregularities in finance… that incident in Spain…"

"What incident in Spain?" Mithridates was almost exasperated with the rambling. "I grow impatient, Arab!"

"That incident in Spain," Artavasdes tried to explain, while testing the king of his weakness with the Julii, "involved gold smuggled by past Roman generals while cleaning up the pirates there. Apparently, Marcus Marcellus, travelling to that part of the world, stumbled into the gold cache and hid it from the rest of the world."

"How rich was it?"

"Enough to buy Egypt, Great King."

"Nonsense! No one can buy Egypt." Which was a subtle suggestion from the part of the Arab. Mithridates knew that he could not dare suggest the Kingdom of Parthia, and the Ptolemaic Kingdom was really no match for his vast realm, so Egypt was just another word for Parthia. "What has all this to do with Syria and Asia Minor?"

"Marcus Marcellus advocated another war with you, Great King. He thought that the only way out of Rome's debts was the wealth of your kingdom."

Which pretty much refuted the Arab's last statement. "The fool," Mithridates commented, concealing a smile.

"The Senate was more into the war with the Gauls, which spilled to their provinces in Italian Gaul."

"Italian Gaul," Mithridates said with contempt. It was a living contradiction that only Romans could dare invent. What other peoples could force a conquered nation by a sword, act as if they were the kings of the races around them, and say they were a democratic, peace-loving nation? "The stench of Rome reeks everywhere."

"So, while the Gallic war was being waged by another Julian, Sextus Cornelius Julianus, another war was being waged in the Senate, led by the able Marcus Marcellus, Gaius Fonteianus, and the tribunes of the plebs Sextus Julius and Gaius Antonius. But Fonteianus had the largest influence, and when he died, Marcus was left to advocate the Julian cause on his own. Of course, he was championed by the Plebs, but that incurred the anger of the Senate even more"

Mithridates finally sat down, enthralled for the first time at Roman politics.

"And that wrath of the Senate manifested itself in the censor, Decius. He had harassed Fonteianus almost to his death about his "improper" acts in Syria and Asia Minor, and when the senator died, he turned his attention to Marcus Marcellus. Who killed himself, rather than face charges of hoarding immense treasure from Spain."

"Amazing how Rome turns on itself so very often," remarked Eumachus.

"So now, Decius and his adherents, who called themselves Republicans after the ideal of Rome's state, turned on the other Julian family members and supporters. One by one, the senators were swayed to the side of the Decian faction, until the proposal of war with your kingdom was thrashed. As a sign of this, Quintus Cassius has been recalled from his governorship in Syria."

The Nabatean Arab delivered the news slowly, and scrutinized the reaction of the king. Which was hard not to see, as Mithridates had jumped up, and was at the point of calling a council of war. "I think we might want to listen to other news from Artavasdes."

"Nonsense!" cried Mithridates excitedly, "This is our chance! We can..."

"Think first if the Roman Senate would appoint an equally competent governor, Great and Wise King."

Mithridates snarled, then sat down.

Artavasdes went on. "When I said all the Julian positions were being recalled, I meant all. The Senate handed down an order to Sextus Cornelius, in his headquarters in Narbo Martius, that he was being recalled and replaced by Lucius Marcellus, the senior consul's brother but as ultra-conservative as those opposed to the Julii. Unfortunately for the Senate, Sextus Cornelius had, in the course of the Gallic War, amassed four full legions outside of Italy, against one raw recruit legion to guard Campania, near Rome. This was not all the problems of the Senate. When Sextus Cornelius refused to step down for his colleage Marcellus, the Senate issued an order declaring the general inimicus, or hostile. It was not passed."

"What's all this? What do you mean, not passed?"

"It was barred by the most powerful of counters against a senatorial decree. The tribunician veto. Sextus Julius and Gaius Antonius, tribunes of the plebs, shouted their veto to a cheering crowd as the Senate begged, pleaded, demanded and threatened the two to retract their veto. But the tribunes kept vetoing and vetoing, even the recalling of Quintus Cassius and the other Julian magistrates."

By now, the Parthian king was in a whirl, hand to his head. "So what does this mean? That Quintus Cassius is still governor of Syria?"

"He left weeks ago. When he arrived in Rome, he found that nobody had yet arrived in Syria because the Senate had not quite agreed on it yet. The anti-Julian senators had resorted to intimidating the tribunes, using gangs armed with clubs to attack Sextus Julius and Gaius Antonius. But the vetoes kept going."

"Finally, a group of men offered their services to the tribunes, and though they did not hear a direct yes to their offer, a war erupted between the two gangs. And the Senate, finally finding an excuse, blamed the violence on the two tribunes and declared them as outlaws. The two tribunes escaped from Rome but not to Spain where they were supposedly exiled, but to their relative Sextus Cornelius, still in Gaul."

"I cannot wait for you to finish," Mithridates remarked.

"My news gets even better, Great King. Sextus Cornelius, after refusing the first senatorial decree, was approached again, this time by two senators, who personally delivered the decree saying that he either give up his legions and his province, or be declared an enemy of Rome. They went home bruising! Apparently, Sextus' soldiers didn't like the news, and stoned them to near-death. Two legions have already been positioned to Arretium, just near the ancient boundary of Rome."

"A civil war?" The Parthian king's eyes sparkled. "Is that what you want to tell me?"

"No, Great King." Artavasdes took a deep breath, saw Mithridates' hands trembling in excitement. "Lucius Calpurnius, a member of the Republican coalition, has been ordered to command the legions in Italy. I mean, Great King, the legions recently taken out of Syria and Asia Minor."

His eyes widened. He clutched his heart and tried to breathe. "How many legions?"

"One is left in Asia Minor, two in Syria. They think it is enough to keep the peace."

"Ha! Fine news, Arab! Worthier than your person!" Mithridates darted to his advisor. "Eumachus! Assemble the generals! We will seize the eastern provinces from Roman hands. The time has come to humble the great Roman Senate!"

The chief advisor bowed, went to a nearby room. "Let me go, Father." The Parthian king turned, and saw his eldest, Vologases IV, standing near the Nabatean Arab. "You told me the next war would have me as general. This is the next war, Father! Let me prove my worth."

"What more worth is there than being my son?" Mithridates placed a hand on his son's shoulders. "But a man you have become. I am proud to have you lead my army."

They hugged, and Mithridates turned to the Arab. "Artavasdes, I want you to approach the Jews. I know they've been itching to revolt against Rome, and this is their chance."

"What of Armenia, Father?"

"My brother is my brother." The Parthian king turned to his son. He was almost like him now, but more cultured, more used to the Greco-Parthian breeding that the king wanted of his subjects so badly. "He supported Rome inasmuch as his interests lie. But now Rome is weak; I do not think he can resist sharing in the spoils."

"Parthia!" Mithridates VI Wolfshead, King of Kings, ruler of the Kingdom of Parthia, shouted at the hallow halls. "Make haste! We go to war!"

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

The train of the King was long, winding down for miles and miles. It consisted of slaves, scholars and historians (who he wanted there while he warred successfully with Rome), staff officers who kept him tuned to the latest developments in their advance, and many others, actors, singers and players who entertained him during days when the army was at a rest. He didn't bring his wives and mistresses; they he left in the care of his younger son, Phraates III. "Not a hair on their head is to be harmed," he had told his son. "Or I break your neck."

It wasn't that he didn't love his son, but he just couldn't stand the embarrassment of so uncultured and un-warrior like character of Phraates. So many times, Mithridates forced him to wrestle with his gladiators in court. He left bloody, bruised and crying. Crying! The son of the King of Kings, weeping over a few painful punches. It had been too much for him that day, and he had suddenly stood up, and left for his chamber. He tried to teach the boy sword-fighting, and horseback riding. "Ride a camel, an ass, something! Are you a Parthian, to shun the blood of the warrior within you?" But each time, the boy fussed and pulled at his trousers, telling his father that he'd rather read with his Greek tutors, who tried to teach him a little of the concept of Mathematics and Stoicism. That moment, Mithridates was almost tempted to strangle one of his Greek scholars in front of his child. "Why couldn't he be like his brothers?" He stormed at Thesea the night before. "Why couldn't he fight like the soldier he was born to be? Not some whining pansy talking about philosophies of dead men. It's disgraceful!"

Thesea, used to life in Ecbatana, had dryly replied, "But my lord, you enjoy the philosophies of these dead men."

Only his wife could have told him that, and lived. Her, and Eumachus. Mithridates thought of her now, as he rode on his black stallion, gazing at the vast stretch of desert that was the Osrrhoene. A few nights hence and his army would be crossing the Tigris River. He rode to his general, Phramaxartes. "How long have we until reach the Tigris?"

"Three days, sir."

"Have we word from the Jewish king yet?"

"No sir; not since the first encounter."

The first encounter had been at Edessa, when Mithridates had assembled the brunt of his troops. Cataphracts, mercenary soldiers from Media and Scythia, and the most elite of horse archers, that he saw to the training himself. He wanted everything to be perfect. The Jewish king arrived with only a small group of soldiers, mainly his officers, and laid out his conditions. "An independent Judaea, my king."

"Which Judaea is that?"

"The ancient borders of our people."

"Ha! That will never happen." Mithridates knew that the Jews were a sensitive lot, but they had to learn their place in the world. "However, The King of Kings would personally assure you that the King of Kings will guarantee an independent Judaea, one away from the prying Roman eyes, Egyptian eyes, or even Parthian eyes."  
He held out a hand to Eumachus, who was present. "The King of Kings believes that the Jews, if left to their devices, could serve Parthia more than if they were acting under the guidance of the King of Kings. However, the King of Kings only wishes one thing of the Jews: a token of continuous loyalty. An annual tribute and a marriage of my son to one of your daughters."

Hyrcanus had stood as one in shock. He was still afraid for Roman reprisals. "My Great King, I am afraid I cannot take your side openly, as I fear for the Romans, and their presence in our country…"

"Didn't I tell you they would be expelled?" Mithridates rarely used the first person in addressing kings he deemed below his station, but the anger flared visibly in his face. "You will abide by these conditions--- which are sufficiently lenient!--- or you will see your cities burn to the ground. Do you understand this?"

The Jewish king merely nodded his head, still worried of the implications of a permanent alliance with the King of the Parthians. "Well then, the King of Kings would like to know how much contribution you are willing to give for this war against the Roman Senate?"

Still trying to recover from the demands of the Parthian King, Hyrcanus started to mumble. "Our people have been divided for many years; they have been divided on their stand…"

"Divided? But are you not their king?"

"Yes I am,"

"And do you not speak for your people?"

Hyrcanus smiled nervously. "You have to understand our politics"

"And you have to understand that the King of Kings is at war with Rome, and he needs a solid opposition against them… if he cannot guarantee this full support with the Jews, then he can guarantee nothing for the Jews. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes."

"Now what can you guarantee?"

Hyrcanus swallowed. "The Jewish army, numbered to two thousand, can march north to the Roman garrisons in Jerusalem and the northern Galilean cities. We can send another two thousand at Osrrhoene for the King of Kings, but only after we've made sure that the Roman governor has become distracted enough with his war with the Jews" He sighed. "With us."

"Good. I want that insurrection when I cross the Tigris." Mithridates laid out his plans, and the time he would reach Osrrhoene. "You will meet the King of Kings there along with your daughters, and he is to be assured that the union between his son and your daughter will bear the next King of Judaea."

A tall order, but one the king had to accept. "It will be as you will, Great King." With many praises and professions of loyalty the Jewish king had left, much confused than when he came to meet Mithridates.

So where was that Jew, Mithridates asked himself. It had been months since travelling from his summer palace. He would be reaching the Syrian province by the start of the Roman elections, when the Senate elected the governors for the east. Not that there had been governors for some time in Syria. This was why it was perfect for the Jews to rebel now! Couldn't they execute at least that before he crossed the Tigris? As the journey came closer to war, the King of Kings started to worry about the campaign. There were no Quintus Cassius or Gaius Fonteianus to go against him, but what Roman commander would marshal troops against him now? Some quaestor or praetor, whittling away in a provinces, taking it to himself to war with the king? This was where Gaius Fonteianus had started his career. Was it some brave soldier or tribune who would rally Roman-trained troops to defend against the Parthians?

It was not likely. Not likely that any Roman force can resist the Parthians, at the state they were in. Not if Artavasdes, his spy in the West, was a liar. If he was, he would have been throttled, and the invasion scuttled. He kept other spies on Artavasdes, and at the Romans. They confirmed the Arab's statement. And the King with him in the royal train, along with his military staff, apparently elevated the Nabatean.

The answer of the Jew came a few days later.

* * *

Riding as usual in his favorite steed, Zarathustra, Mithridates beheld a figure approaching his army. He squinted, and he saw that four other figures went along with the visitor. He observed the weapons, the clothing, the horses... and finally assumed it was the Jew.

He waved his hand at the general that informed him of Hyrcanus' arrival.

"My son is dead, Great King." The words did not come as a blow to the Parthian ruler, but the fall of Jerusalem did. "Two full Roman legions divested the city a few weeks ago. They have been marching at other Jewish cities with their armies." He looked desolate and shrunken in front of Mithridates. This made him all the more intolerable. "The Romans, they cannot be stopped."

"Cannot be stopped? Cannot be stopped?" Mithridates VI approached the dejected Jew with his horse. "You assured me that the Jews will have Rome on its knees. Or at least distracted. Now, you say a Roman general has you on the run?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly a general."

Hyrcanus explained how the Roman quaestor, Lentulus Marcius, had been approached by his rival Antipater when there was no Roman governor or even a procurator in sight. "It was an unbelievable thing, Great King. He knew nothing of war, yet now his soldiers hail him as Imperator."

"Eh? A quaestor?" Eumachus came beside him and explained the duties of the quaestor--- mainly the financial aspects. Mithridates widened his eyes, then shot a look of disgust Hyrcanus' way. "A treasurer? Your armies are being defeated by a treasurer? What general would let himself be beaten by a Roman financier?"

"It wasn't like that, Great King"

"Then what was it like?" Mithridates almost roared with rage as he looked the Jew in the face. Finally, and for the longest time, he noticed the king's companions. Generals, and a girl. He regained composure, cleared his throat and bowed his head. "I am sorry for that."

Hyrcanus was quick to interject. "This is Esther, my daughter. She is... an offering to the friendship of the King of Parthia."

Mithridates felt that he had relieved himself from his seat. Why didn't the Jew tell him of the beauty of his daughter? To give her to Phraates now... it was almost against his character.

He closed his eyes, looked at the Jew. "Hyrcanus, I need my two thousand troops." The Jew bowed. "You pledged to me those troops when last we met. You pledged me that the Jews would keep the Romans at bay. What have you not failed to do this day?"

For the first time, Hyrcanus felt the army of the Parthians all around him. Even with his generals, he was naked to attack.

"I can assure you, Great King; they will be there when you cross"

"I am already at the point of crossing Osrrhoene! Or haven't you noticed where we are?" Mithridates was again distracted by the girl, and cursed silently for her presence here. "Very well. Eumachus, send for my son." The Greek bowed, and galloped his horse to the King's train. He tried to keep eye contact with the Jewish king, but was often distracted by Esther.

The army, meanwhile had erected wooden bridged which they lowered across the river, and the infantry had already begun to cross, pikes, swords and spears in hand.

Vologases arrived in chain mail, and was as stunned by Esther as Mithridates. The King cleared his throat, scowled at his son, and gestured at the Jewish king. "Hyrcanus, this is my eldest son Vologases."

"Vologases, she is your bride. And the dowry is Judaea."

Hyrcanus' eyes widened, turned to his generals. It was pointless. The King of Kings had his staff around him, and at the sight of the marching army. "Great King, surely you misunderstand..."

"He will succeed you when you die, of course. But he is to be the ruler of Judaea when you die." The Parthian stressed the words very carefully as to drive home the point. "You have failed to drive out the Romans, now he will drive out the Romans."

Vologases, still intoxicated at the sight of the Jewess, turned to his father. "What do you mean, Father? What about the war in Asia?"

"Son, you will be king of Judaea, and all the realms north and south of Syria. The Romans are at war with the Jews, so you might find the going easier. Take a thousand of your uncle's cataphracts, I won't need them."

The son nodded.

"Wait for the Jewish force to come here, and then take your army with you. You can have the third of the Parthian force."

Finally realizing what he meant, Vologases, hugged his father. "Good luck, Father, on Asia."

"I do not need luck. I am the King of Kings."

"Justly so," observed Eumachus.

Hyrcanus watched as the last of the Parthian army (that which was not under Vologases' command) crossed the river from the Osrrhoene. Mithridates had driven to the front of his army, rallied them, and then resumed the march north.

Vologases looked at Esther with a pang of hunger. "Jew, be grateful that my Father is merciful. He has given you a great Parthian heritage."

"Yes, that is so," Hyrcanus replied dejectedly.

"Now lead me to the Romans! I can no longer wait!"

* * *

Asia. He could already smell the stench of it waft his face.

The King of Kings always resented the sycophantic character of the rulers in the mountains. He remembered that Deiotarus had once helped his father in his campaign, but turned against him at the slight defeat inflicted by the Romans.

Nevertheless, with his cataphract cavalry of 3000 (1000 a gift from his brother, Tigranes of Armenia), horse archers of 2000, local militia of 3000 and Eastern Infantry of 1500. There were also the siege engines, used in subjugating cities.

At the southeastern tip of the Anatolian mounts was the kingdom of Cilicia. Normally a Roman garrison, the death of its governor Lucius Sura left the province with no administration for almost five years. The delegation came once-- just once! -- To ask for intercession from Rome. But even during then, the Senate had been too busy trying to keep the Roman veteran Sextus Julius Gallicus from attaining fame and prestige among the people.

Yet another weakness of the Romans. Why entrust power to a squabbling faction of oligarchs, when these factions in turn always fought at each other? Better that they had a king, like Mithridates was. An iron will against a weak minded nation.

That was what Mithridates thought of Rome. Weak-minded. Easily manipulated. Easily pushed. The victories over other states did not matter. Pontus, Greece, Carthage.. these were nothing more than hiccoughs of the Roman disease.

On crossing the Osrrhoene, Mithridates immediately sent his messenger to proclaim his entrance in the province of Cilicia.

"Let the elders of the city come forth! Pay homage to the King of Kings."

Crass, thought Mithridates, as he watched the massive towers that protected the city. Those would be hard to overpower. For that, he needed his generals' advice. "Men of Tarsus, can you not hear the thunder of the Parthian advance? Do you not quake at the sight of the mighty army of the East? Come forth and give obeisance to the King!"

Finally, from the towering walls of the city, emerged an old man, clothed in purple robes, a defiant look in his eye. "We have heard your call, Great King, yet were too overcome by the deepness of the arrogance from the voice of your messenger."

Mithridates adjusted himself from his saddle. He looked around, to the siege engines and the cavalry and the troops around him. He looked back at the old man. "The message was clear. Pay homage to the King of Kings, and I will give you mercy!"

"Mercy is not yours to be given, Great King."

"Succumb to my power! Do you dare to bring the might of the King of Kings on your small city? Pay homage now!"

The old man looked at the soldiers near him, then back at the king. "My city respectfully declines."

At this, the archers assembled from the walls. Mithridates raised his sword, and ordered his engines to fire.

A boulder smashed into the walls, sending a huge chunk of stone crumbling to the ground. They were reinforced, however.

Mithridates ordered the supply lines to the city cut. Within days, the water reservoir going to the city had been rerouted.

"Tarsus is a large city, Great King." His general explained. "It will take a few months for it to fall. Shall we storm the city by force?"

"No, no. There won't be room to maneuver your armies."

Two days later, the King learned that another army had appeared behind them.

"It's a cohort!" The messenger said between gasps. "They attacked from the rear and attacked our train!"

"How many men?"

"2000, great King. But to meet them, we must lift this siege."

"No, we shall only use the cavalry. Keep the rest of the army where they are! I want Tarsus starved!"

It was a hilly region where the scout sighted the Roman soldiers. Mithridates watched from below as the Romans beat their shields and strung their bows at the direction of his soldiers.

To the left of the hill, one must climb to reach the top. However, to the right is flatter land, and forestry. A perfect place to maneuver.

He had with him 1000 of his horse archers, and 500 of his cataphracts. From the sight of the Romans, he thought that this was merely local militia. A legion under the command of some non-governor? Incompetent.

Ordering a group of his horse archers, 200, to go to the forestry to the right, the rest of his army remained where they were, rained by arrows and almost in panic.

"Stay where you are." Mithridates looked at his generals.

Horses neighed violently, and some of the beasts collapsed, an arrow at their heads or breasts. Other soldiers also fell, and the rest only looked at the arrows piercing the bodies.

"Stay where you are," the King repeated.

200 more archers were ordered to the forestry.

The arrows reached the height of their volume when a third group of archers were ordered to the forestry. A fourth of the King's cataphract had needlessly died, pulled back by soldiers filled with contempt for their king, for not doing anything towards the Romans.

Some of them took out shields and tried to block the raining missiles at them, wishing that it would go away, that it would empty out.

A fourth group of archers were ordered to the forestry.

The missiles stopped.

"General Euxambres," the King turned to the general. "Order half of the cataphract force to climb the hill on the left."

"But the arrows," protested the general.

"Are spent. Now all I need you to do is to charge all the way to that part," he pointed at the half of the hill's incline. "Then stop and try to withstand the charge. Can you do that?"

"Uh, yes, Great King."

Mithridates took the other cataphracts and wheeled his way to the forestry.

As was expected, as the left of his cataphracts under Euxambres started to climb, the cohorts started moving to that direction. However, a cavalry galloped to the king's direction.

At the forestry, the King sighted the enemy cavalry, and ordered his own cataphracts to withdraw.

The enemy pursued him, across the ravine. "Stay with me!" Mithridates said as the horses chinked against the chain mail around them. They had reached it, he thought, as the Roman cavalry had neared their position.

The Roman cavalry suddenly was face to face with 1000 horse archers, their bows strung at their faces. Though outnumbering the Parthians 2 to 1, the missiles of the first volley instantly halved the Roman cavalry. Mithridates immediately ordered his cataphracts to turn round and charge straight at the enemy.

The immediate struggle became a withdrawal. The withdrawal became a retreat. The retreat became a rout, as the chinking of the chain mail was heard throughout the forests, as the Roman cavalry was overpowered by the Persian cataphracts. Almost to a man, they were slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Euxambres had struggled and shouted at his soldiers to push on, but the hooves of the horses, the chain mail, and the weight of the armor all went against the climb. Halfway into the slope, a third of the cataphracts reached the climb. Euxambres looked below at the other cataphracts, urged them forward.

The Romans, from above, could see what was happening below, and started to position themselves facing the Parthians. When the uphill climb couldn't be done by the enemy, they started to prepare for a charge.

Almost despairingly, Euxambres ordered his riders to dismount and positioned his men for an impromptu phalanx. The climb was impossible enough, but to withstand a charge.

The entire Roman cohort descended on them.

As Euxambres' soldiers thrust their lances at the charging Roman soldiers, from above, at the place the Romans just left, the Parthian horse archers emerged from the forest,and started raining arrows at the enemy. The cohort now faced enemies from behind and in front of them. Some of them tried to climb back, but the arrows rained on them. Finally, Mithridates ordered his cataphracts to charge, and the Romans were caught between the spears of both the rear and front.

Many surrendered on the spot.

"They were barely trained." Euxambres explained as Mithridates inspected the aftermath of the battle. "Cilicians enlisted to a cohort militia when they learned that we were coming."

"Not the equivalent of a legionary training."

"A great victory, my King." Euxambres looked at the Parthians still trying to take the surrendering soldiers to a corner. "No doubt, one that will resound throughout Asia. Shall we march forward?"

"No." Mithridates shook his head. "Tarsus must fall first."

Tarsus did fall, but not exactly in the way they planned. Starved, the people opened the gates, and out rushed their local militia, straight to the missiles that an alerted Eumachus ordered rained at them. The Eastern infantry met the enemy immediately afterwards, and pursued them all the way to the city, where a Parthian soldiers chopped off the head of the elder governing the city.

For his pains, Mithridates ordered the head thrown to the nearby river.

"Eliminate the men of the city, and sell the women and children to slavery." Mithridates watched as the city burn from in front of him. "Prepare the soldiers, Eumachus. We will stay here for a few days, and then march north to Cappadocia."

"Of course, Great King."

On the center of Asia, Cappadocia was mainly rugged mountains and a few cities. The kingdom had a long history of alliance with Rome, and the Senate tolerated its continuing existence as long as it remained a client-state.

The client-kingdom system always confused Mithridates. Why not outright occupation? Yet another evidence of Roman weakness. They will not occupy a country they know they can't guarantee to hold.

Like Cilicia.

The smoldering ruins of Tarsus still visible at the borders, Mithridates VI of Parthia led his army across the river and into Cappadocia, led by the ineffectual King Ariobarzanes.

He was not in the Parthian King's mind, and neither were the Romans in Asia Minor, or even the sound crushing of Cilicia behind them.

"It is a few weeks from Judaea," Mithridates observed.

"Yes, it is." Eumachus looked at his King, whose gaze was turned to the mountains of Anatolia. He thought quickly of the meeting with Alexander Hyrcanus, the self-proclaimed Jewish King. Something there must have disturbed his King greatly. "I suppose the Jews must be pushing back the Roman advance."

"Are you fooling me?" Mithridates looked back at his minister. "The Jews could barely keep their own state when they had one, and you think they have the capacity to keep the Romans back? I think not."

"But your son, he is there with a third of your army."

"Of course. My son," the Greek minister noticed an almost-disgusted look from his King. "He will crush the Romans. I didn't think of that."

Entering the country through the mountains, he was immediately greeted by an embassage, from the Kings of Cimmeria, Galatia, Lycia and Cappadocia.

With them was a grinning Nabatean, Artavasdes.

"I didn't notice you leave the train," King Mithridates noted.

"I went ahead to... negotiate with the kings."

"And," the Parthian king added, "if you weren't so damn useful, your head would have not remained on your neck for too long."

"But I am useful," Artavasdes replied with that annoying grin of his. "Isn't that the point?"

The kings of Cimmeria, Galatia and Lycia all sent deputations of five each. The King of Cappadocia, significantly, went in person.

"I beg you, King of Kings," Ariobarzanes was immediately groveling before the Parthians. "Spare my country from the sword and fire. We promise you aid, we promise you the best of our troops."

"And since when," the King of Kings flared, "did I need aid from the likes of you, Ariobarzanes? The sword will consume your little country, for it is the wish of the Parthian king!"

"But I send you offerings of peace! I send you offerings of tribute"

With that, Ariobarzanes gestured towards the cart filled with sixteen crowns. Mithridates' eyes widened.

"They are a present from the Kings of Anatolia," Artavasdes told the king from the side.

Mithridates dismounted from Zarathustra, and weighed each crown on his head. He sent orders to one of his generals, to have the crowns taken to the train, where they would later be shipped back to Ecbatana, or Seleucia, depending on the season of their return.

Ariobarzanes, meanwhile, had also dismounted and stood in front of the Parthian king. "Please accept our token of friendship, Great King."

"And how dare you stand beside me, Mithridates?" The Cappadocian king suddenly fell back and began to crawl towards the Parthian king's feet. "Get off me, you stinking wretch!"

The Parthian King was immediately on Zarathustra, looking at Cappadocia with his eyes. "How many men do you have?"

"1000 cavalry. The best of our horsemen."

"Can they keep up with the Parthian cataphracts?"

Cataphracts? With all that weight, why would he think the Cappadocian cavalry... Ariobarzanes stifled that thought. "Yes, they are prepared to."

"They are prepared to. Can they keep up with the cataphracts now?"

"Of course. They will do as the Great King asks."

"And what of your friendship with Rome? Your Friend and Ally status?"

Ariobarzanes, weak and incompetent as he was, could not possibly fathom the significance of his actions. "I and my descendants forever stand against the Senate and People of the Roman nation."

All he needed. Mithridates gestured the king to the train behind the army. "Order your generals to summon 3000 horsemen. I want the entire Cappadocian army assembled in Gordium two weeks from now."

Ariobarzanes bowed. "As you wish, Great King."

"And where are you going?" Mithridates noticed the Cappadocian turning his horse back. "You are to remain among my generals to confer with them. For the remainder of the campaign."

The Cappadocian swallowed, and then bowed. "As the Great King wishes."

If only the other kings were like this, weak and easily cowed, Mithridates thought. Parthia's sway would no sooner reach that of Greece.

I shall surpass you Xerxes! He looked at the mountains around him. I'll be through this accursed land and take Greece for my own!

* * *

Not everyone was like the Cappadocian king.

The Galatian ruler was Biturges, the very character of the Gaul. The land, after all, was the settling ground of the Gauls that stayed in Asia Minor after their ancient invasion.

He was fiercely independent. He antagonized Rome and Parthia alike. Mithridates remembered that one delegation he had sent had returned with their ears cut off. The message was clear: Galatia would not hear of a Parthian Asia.

A mistake for him.

In Gordium, surprisingly still in the Cappadocian country, Mithridates learned that the Galatians, numbering 3500, had assembled outside the city, along with their king. They weren't planning on offering tribute.

Ariobarzanes' generals had just returned, but with only 2000 of their horsemen: apparently Biturges had sounded out the Cappadocian deal, and ambushed the flank of the generals, who barely escaped with the rest of the cavalry.

"And that is why I need to deal with your country a little later," Mithridates told a cringing Ariobarzanes.

It was a fitting place to pitch battle. Gordium, the place where a Greek once tied a knot that was so complicated no one could loose it. He prophesied that the man who solved the puzzle would become the ruler of the world.

Alexander had promptly chopped it with his sword.

The conquest of Asia would begin here, Mithridates thought.

The Galatian cavalry was divided into three. He faced Biturges in a plain, nowhere to hide, no elevations, no hills.

With 1000 of his horse archers, and 2000 of his cataphracts, Ariobarzanes was given command of his Cappadocian cavalry. He held the center, while on both flanks were the cataphract groups divided in two, and the horse archers on the front.

The horse archers, led by Euxemenes, led the attack with a hail of arrows. The left flank was immediately moving, the Galatians extending the attack by lending some of their horsemen from the center to the attack on the left flank.

Mithridates knew, of course, that Biturges meant to throw the real punch in the right flank. He could barely see spaces between horsemen from the right flank. He was purposely weakening the center to lure his cavalry in.

The left flank extended, and the horse archers trailed the attack with their arrows, where the cataphracts under Arsaces, Mithridates' commander of the left cataphract flank, met the enemy with immediate advantage. The Parthians were pentetrating the Galatian advance.

Almost parallel, however, with the Galatian advance, was the impetuous charge of Ariobarzanes and his Cappadocian knights. Euxemenes turned to his king, but Mithridates stopped him. They watched as the odd-2000 charged straight to the weakened center of Biturges cavalry.

He was abruptly swallowed by an eruption of Galatian counterthrust in the right flank, sudddenly filling with horsemen, and cutting off the Cappadocian from the rear. The right flank, with their extra horsemen, extended into the shape of a scythe, fighting the enemy on their rear and front.

Ariobarzanes was however, distinguished for his valor in the field that day. His generals dead before him, with close to twenty men left, he fought the charging Galatians to the last man.

Meanwhile, Biturges added pressure to the extended left flank by bringing in horsemen from the reinforced center. Mithridates let Euxemenes withdraw his horsemen in a falter as the center and right flank now charged towards them in a disorganized way.

As the horse archers withdrew, the Galatian cavalry was suddenly revealed the spearmen and their pointed weapons, stunning the advancing enemy but not enough to stop, as the spears took their mark and broke the first wave of enemy.

It was Mithridates' turn to extend the right flank. Leading the cataphracts himself into the charge, he ordered Arsaces to slowly withdraw from the fighting on the left flank and lend cataphracts to the left wing. They stabbed straight into the right flank, through the far more numerous Galatians who were unaccustomed to the chainmailed horses of the Parthians. The spearmen also charged, continued lancing at the charging center cavalry of the Galatians, until it began to falter.

Biturges was now left with either of two options: withdraw the extended left flank to reinforce the right and center, or continue the pressure on a retreating Arsaces, while holding off the attack on right flank and center.

With the sight of Mithridates, a wolf's head covering his head, charging near where he was, Biturges abruptly ordered his general to abandon the left flank, and reinforce his force in the right and center.

What he did not expect, with Arsaces' horses completely in the battle on the right flank, was that Euxemenes and his horse archers would actually fill the void of the left flank, and, swords drawn out, they charged towards the retreating Galatian left. Arrows followed the Galatians, and then engaged the enemy on close-quarter fighting, until they had to turn and face the left flank of the Parthians, now commanded by Euxemenes.

Mithridates, meanwhile, had fought his way to where he thought Biturges was. He was barely hit by a spear thrown at his direction, while he cut down a Galatian with his sword. Taking the spear from the enemy slain, he charged with a roar and the rest of the cataphracts near him echoed him as they charged headlong in a half-vise of the Galatian army towards Biturges.

Mithridates aimed the spear at the Galatian king, and hit him on the shoulder. Biturges was abruptly unhorsed, then cut down by Mithridates' sword as he tried to get back on his horse.

The rest of the Galatians, seeing their king dead, and the enemy all over them, began to rout. The Parthians pursued, with many cheers, towards the Galatians.

Only a few managed to return in their capital. With lightning speed, so was the Parthian army.

Attalus, the Galatian heir and now ruler, quickly made peace with the King of Kings, with another cart of crowns, this time gilded in pure gold and studded with gems.

"Your father gifted this to me prior to engaging me in Gordium," Mithridates noted.

"He was a madman, fanatically loyal to the Roman treaty. We both know that they are mere words that have no standing."

"They are bonds of alliance, Attalus." Mithridates glared at him. "If the Romans can't trust you at alliance, why should I trust you in my war?"

"Because I am not my father. My allegiance is to the King of Kings, the true heir to Asia and Alexander."

That must have struck something in Mithridates, and the cloud of doubt that Judaea had filled him was suddenly (and momentarily) erased. "Well then, will you prosecute a war against the Romans?"

"Of course, Great King. We have the best horsemen Anatolia could offer."

"I thought Galatia lost them in Gordium." Mithridates mused.

"Only half. But we are a fierce people, Great King. It will take more than one battle to force us down."

"Then I shall join you in more battles?"

"No need to bloody your soldiers further, Great King. My cavalry is yours."

Later, Attalus in his train, Mithridates was riding with Euxemenes and Eumachus. The Greek minister seemed occupied. "Will you at least tell me, Great King?"

"About what?"

"What had you meant when you let Ariobarzanes run his cavalry through the trap sprung by Biturges?"

Mithridates shrugged. "Well, subjugating Asia is a lifetime effort. I need my son to govern it when I return to Seleucia."

"Vologases."

"No. Let him rule Judaea." The Parthian king left it at that. "Euxemenes, how far are we from Asia Minor?"

"There is still, Great King, the king of Bithynia. But, we need only to cross Galatia to meet the Roman legions."

"And Artavasdes, has he heard of the Roman movements?"

"They are assembling, but realize they are still far out numbered."

Mithridates smiled, let his thought linger. "Cappadocia did not deserve to exist, anyway," he concluded to himself.

* * *


End file.
